Author's Note:

Hello again lovelies! I have another chapter for you! I've actually been working on this one for quite a while now and it took some time to get it to flow and play nicely but it finally did. I've also got a pretty solid idea of what direction this story is going in and how it will be finished. It's just a matter of getting the words out of my brain and into the documents. I'm estimating that this story will be around 15 chapters long give or take depending on how the story decides to run itself.

For my Simon Says readers, I am still chipping away at the next chapter for that story though it is still being very resistant. I feel like I've written myself into a corner and I'm not quite sure how to work myself back out of it and back on track. I am working on it though and will have the next chapter available as soon as I'm able to get through it.

I have started cross posting some of my stories on AO3 under the same pen name (ABrighterDarkness). The Voice isn't posted yet but I will be working on getting it up over the next week or so.

I hope that you enjoy this chapter and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

As always, I own nothing, I'm just playing!

Always,
ABD

The Voice

Chapter Eight

Pain. Pain. Pain.

The near constant presence made it virtually impossible to determine exactly how long he had been in this…place. His magic was unreachable due to some sort of dampening cuff they had placed around his left arm which was fastened down to a metal surface splayed away from his body while the rest of him was thoroughly restrained onto the table he had been stuck to since his arrival. He felt delirious which made him certain that he had been drugged.

He had no idea how he had come to this place. He only remembered being on the battlefield at Hogwarts and then coming to strapped to this table, divested of all his belongings from his clothing to his wand. He had been redressed in these flimsy garments and bound to the table. For the most part he was left alone but there had been many of times that people, he did not recognize any of them, came in and spent what he was sure was hours poking and prodding at the Mark on his left arm. Sometimes it was through magical means but just as often the Mark was treated to slicing and painful prodding by mundane means.

He was sure that he would have rather another stint in Azkaban over this. Or at least for them to allow him to fall into unconsciousness while they worked.

The door creaked loudly, echoing through the sterile room and he cringed, bracing himself for another round.

The Voice

Hermione slowly drifted awake a week later feeling a warm weight wrapped snuggly around her right side. She blinked awake sleepily and a quick glance found a blonde head of hair nestled onto her shoulder and a pale arm draped across her abdomen. She smiled and carefully lowered her right arm down from where it had stretched overhead throughout the night to let her arm wrap across the girl's back to rest on her hip. When the arm around her tightened, Hermione returned the hug just a little bit tighter and felt a rush of affection for the other witch that didn't belong solely to her.

"Good morning, Hermione," Luna said, quietly without bothering to move.

"Morning, Luna," she answered. Ever since the whole disaster started and the pair of witches were put into hiding, they had taken to sharing a bed. It helped, Hermione thought, with so much uncertainty to have the safety and security of one of her closest friends nearby. Even before the mess began, the evenings when she and Luna would end up too deep in their wine and they'd end up in exactly the same positioning. Luna, once their friendship had truly settled in, had always seemed to forgo social niceties like personal space and, in Hermione's usual way of things, she adapted. The first time she woke with Luna wrapped around her in such a way, she had been a flustered, blushing mess. She had stuttered her apologies and rushed to the kitchen to make breakfast in order to put space between her and her embarrassment.

Now though, Hermione found she was quite accustomed waking to her dear friend's comforting weight draped over her. Enjoyed it even.

She was drawn from her wandering thoughts by pale fingertips tracing idle patterns across her abdomen. That was another thing she had grown accustomed to. When Luna's thoughts were taking off, her fingers were her tell. It wasn't overly noticeable among others, those that Luna wasn't entirely sure wouldn't have commentary to toss her direction. But she had learned some time ago that Luna didn't bother hiding herself anymore. Not from her.

"What's on your mind?" She asked softly, gently stroking the girl's back in soothing motions.

"When are we leaving?" Luna asked, her voice quiet but oddly sad.

"What?" Hermione frowned. "We're not leaving, Luna."

"So you're not coming up with a plan to use yourself as bait?" The blond witch asked pointedly.

"Luna…"

"No," the girl's head shook in the negative against Hermione's shoulder.

"It's our best shot. Marax believes that with his help, I have the best chance at finding out what's going on and being able to get back out again."

"Then when are we leaving?"

"We're not leaving," Hermione replied, firmly.

"You're not leaving me behind," Luna countered, her draped arm tightening as though that was enough to ensure the older witch's compliance.

"I need you safe, Luna," Hermione said with a sigh, both of her arms wrapping around the other witch and tightening slightly. "We need to figure this out but I need you safe."

"Can't I want the same for you?"

"I've got Marax," Hermione shrugged slightly.

"You've got me too, you know," Luna sighed sadly.

"I know, Luna. I always have you."

"But you're still going to go."

"If it helps then I have to, don't I?"

"Then we'll go after breakfast," Luna said, pushing herself up into a sitting position and stretching.

"Luna…" her arguments were immediately cut off when the witch abruptly leaned forward and kissed her. It was brief and chaste but silencing nonetheless. Hermione stared, eyes wide in surprise and a flush spreading across her face and neck.

"I'd always wondered if that would work." Luna tilted her head curiously as she hoped off of the bed. "I'll start on breakfast."

Hermione laid for a moment longer in the bed, dumbstruck. It was only the chuckling in her mind that brought her back to her senses.

"Oh shut up," she muttered aloud. With a huff, she pulled herself off the bed and quickly dressed in consideration for the insane plan they were attempting. Denims, trainers, and a clean tshirt were quickly put on over clean undergarments. Her hair was quickly twisted and knotted at the top of her head in a bun tied as securely as her hair ever managed to be. She turned to face the door before taking a step backwards to sit on the edge of the bed.

She's not going to let me go alone, Marax.

It does seem unlikely. I did warn you that no one was going to like the plan.

No, I know. But it's one thing to put myself into danger. Bringing Luna too though? What was that, anyway?

I'm pretty sure you call that a kiss.

Hermione scowled. Obviously. But why would she kiss me?

Because it got you to stop arguing with her?

Luna never does anything for obvious reasons.

Well, then, I guess you'll just have to ask her.

She sighed and forced herself to leave the room, making her way down to the kitchen.

The Voice

As it turned out, there wasn't much opportunity for Hermione to question Luna about the kiss. When she had made it down to the kitchen, she was surprised to find Kingsley and Harry seated across the table from Sirius. All three men were watching Luna wearily as the blonde witch all but skipped around the kitchen preparing breakfast as she said but their attention swung back to Hermione as soon as she stepped through the doorway.

"Oh good, you're still here," Harry said with forced idleness.

Uh oh. I think we're busted.

"Morning Harry, Kingsley," Hermione answered as brightly as she could manage. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Baby sitting apparently."

"Babysitting?" she frowned. "Why does Sirius need babysat?"

"They're not here for me, love," Sirius denied.

"Please, please tell me that you weren't about to go half-cocked on a potentially suicidal plan to get yourself captured, 'Mione," Harry begged. "Please tell me that my brilliant best friend isn't so stupid as to run off without even telling anyone?"

"I told Luna," Hermione shrugged. "And considering that you're here it's pretty obvious that Sirius somehow knew as well. So no, I'm not stupid, thanks so much."

Kingsley rose from his seat and settled a large hand on Harry's shoulder to halt the angry tirade that was surely about to explode from the wizard before walking around the table to brace his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione, we are just worried. So many of those we love have gone missing already and we do not yet know why. We don't want to lose you as well."

"That's exactly it though, Kings," Hermione insisted "We have no idea what we're up against. We're battling completely blind. Whoever this is has completely free reign to keep taking and taking and there is absolutely nothing we can do to stop them right now. We need an edge. I can get us that edge!"

"How, Hermione?" Kingsley asked, Hermione was pleased to note that there was no hint of mocking or patronization in his tone. "We have potentially hundreds of witches and wizards in their hands and not one has been able to send word. If you can explain to us how you intend on doing this, let us come up with a solid plan, then perhaps we can move forward. But I cannot allow you to put yourself at risk like this blindly. You are too precious to all of us."

Hermione sighed and met Luna's gaze and the blonde quirked her lips and bobbed her head just slightly. Exhaling heavily, Hermione looked back up to Kingsley and gave a firm nod. The wizard's shoulders dropped in relief and he pulled her against his chest in a tight hug which she automatically returned with equal fervor. As reluctant as she was to share her secret and Marax's existence, it was reassuring that she had these people on her side. Apparently Harry's headfirst compulsion at begun to rub off on her at some point.

Kingsley released his hold and guided her back to the table next to where he had been seated before helping Luna to levitate the breakfast plates to the table and retaking his place. Luna quickly took the seat between Hermione and Sirius, the blonde's hand slipping into hers in comfort and encouragement.

"I'm not entirely sure where to start," Hermione sighed, spinning her glass idly on the table.

"Does this have to do with your immunity to various potions and such?" Kingsley asked, curiously.

"It does," she nodded. She took a steadying break and caught Harry's gaze. "Our second year, when I was petrified. I wasn't supposed to be petrified. I should have died."

Harry took a sharp intake of air, eyes wide, "How do you mean?"

"I mean that Penny saw the Basilisk in the hand mirror that I was carrying. I didn't."

"How did you survive then?" Sirius asked, grey eyes intense.

Hermione tightened her grip on Luna's hand and exhaled slowly, "It would seem that at some point in my second year, I unknowingly came across an entity to which I became a host. This entity has saved my life, all our lives really, many of times throughout the years since. For a long time, I attributed the extra awareness as instinct or as my magic speaking to me. Only…only I found out around the same time all of this started that…it's not. Exactly."

"An entity?" Kingsley repeated, eyes narrowed in concern, his hand covering hers to bring her attention back to him. "What sort of entity, Hermione?"

The witch winced and braced herself, "Well…I suppose the most precise term would be demon?"

The table went silent for a brief moment as the wizards attempted to settle the new information.

"A demon," Harry repeated, flatly. "You're possessed by a demon. And you've kept this quiet until now, why?"

"Multiple reasons, to be honest," she admitted. "Initially, I wanted to settle and understand the information myself. That I have been playing host to an entirely separate entity for the better part of, what seven years? Marax actually warned the day we spoke about the contract, Kingsley. Then, of course, I have no real offering of proof that I can think of. And I knew it would be a rather contentious conversation."

"Perhaps they can speak to him themselves, Hermione," Luna offered quietly before the wizards could speak again.

Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully. Is that something that would be possible?

It would require me to take full possession of you. I have only done such once before, during your torture. However, it is possible.

She nodded and glanced around the table, "Would that be something that would ease your minds?"

"I don't know, 'Mione," Harry admitted. "This is beyond my comprehension right now."

"I think we should," Sirius said. "If she's still insistent on running off and playing bait then it would be good to know what this…demon…is capable of."

Close your eyes. She did as instructed. It will feel as though you are falling asleep. When I am in control, it will feel as though you are dreaming.

"Hermione?" Kingsley's voice called quietly.

"Oh, that's not Hermione anymore, Kingsley," Luna said with a bright smile. "Hello Marax."

"Luna, it's good to see and speak to you directly," Hermione's face smiled affectionately before turning to the wizards all of whom were affected by the slight shift in their friend. The witch relaxed comfortably into her seat rather than being poised upright as Hermione was known to do. Her smile was just slightly off. But the most telling change was in her eyes. The warm brown had darkened further, Harry was reminded starkly of Severus Snape's pitiless black eyes, though Hermione's were considerably less hate-filled than the late potions master's.

"You wished to speak with me?"

"Is Hermione still…is she okay?" Harry asked, anxiously. "She's still there?"

"She is," the possessed witch nodded. "She can hear and see everything though to her it would feel as though she is dreaming. I've only done this with her once before however she was not coherent the last time."

"When?" Harry pressed.

"When the mad witch chose to torture her," Marax replied. "Her mind wouldn't have survived despite my best efforts had she stayed at the forefront. The only way to ensure that Hermione would survive intact was to take control."

"So what's this insane plan you've concocted?" Sirius asked plainly, eying the witch wearily.

"We get caught," Marax said with a shrug. "I'm unknown to all but those in this room and with my presence she's immune or resistant to most spells and potions currently in use and a number of those that aren't. Really, our biggest risk is an exorcism and since I'm unknown, especially among your kind, it's highly unlikely that would be an issue."

"You forget that Hermione is also wanted by the Ministry," Kingsley pointed out.

"Shouldn't be too hard to avoid detection, Minister," Marax smirked. The wizards seemed rather discomfited to see the expression on the face of the witch.

"And after you get caught?" Harry prompted.

"We get intel and we get out. If we can bring others with us then it's for the better."

"You make it sound so straightforward," the young wizard sighed, rubbing his forehead and grimacing. "Surely you know that nothing is ever that straightforward?"

"It's okay Harry," Luna smiled. "They'll have me, too."

"No, we won't," Marax said, Hermione's expression narrowing on the blonde witch.

"I'm coming with," the witch argued. "I'm not letting Hermione do this alone."

Marax shifted Hermione's body to focus solely on Luna, "I'm afraid that Hermione and I are united on this, Luna. You'll not be coming. While risk to Hermione is near nonexistent with my assistance, you do not have the same protections."

"But…"

"No," Marax stated firmly. "You'll not be going if I have to take over again and bind you to your bed myself." Luna's serene expression melted as her eyes widened before dropping to the table with a heavy sigh, letting herself being pulled against Hermione in a comforting hug. Marax's attention shifted back to the room, "What else would need to be discussed? The sooner I get out there the sooner we can put an end to this."

"What's in it for you?" Sirius questioned.

"How do you mean?"

"You're a demon, fae. It's common knowledge, at least it used to be, that caution should always be used in making deals with your particular kind and rarely ever do you do things for altruistic reasons," the Black wizard replied. "So why are you doing this and what's in it for you?"

"Hermione and I have already sorted that," Marax shrugged dismissively. "Our goals naturally align, after all. I have a highly intelligent host who will go places. That allows me to see and learn the world and gain a better understanding of the state of the world. She gets to step outside of societal boundaries and learn, grow, and take the world by storm. She has ambition. I will help her obtain every last one. Neither of us can achieve our goals until this situation is put to an end."

"It's that simple is it?" Sirius asked, tone clear indication of his disbelief.

"For me, it is," Marax answered. "Had she managed to find herself with another of my kind the relationship may not have been quite so mutualistic, however as I said, Hermione and I's ambitions are much the same."

"And what is her ambition?" Kingsley asked, curiously.

That smirk appeared on Hermione's expression once again, "I believe she might be after your job, Minister Shacklebolt."

Kingsley couldn't help the startled laugh that escaped, "I should be so lucky to have her as my replacement."

"Luck will have little to do with it." Marax said with another shrug. "Now, are we through here?"

Without waiting for a reply, Hermione shuddered slightly and blinked rapidly, "Oh, that is an odd feeling."

"…'Mione?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it's me, Harry," the witch smiled. "Are we all settled, then?"

"I still don't like this," the wizard sighed. "I don't like you going in there blind. So much could go wrong."

"I'm our best option," Hermione insisted. "We can't keep fumbling blindly and waiting for news that someone else has gone missing."

They couldn't disagree even though they so desperately wanted to. As they finally tucked into breakfast they discussed potential extraction plans in case Hermione's attempts led to her quiet capture like so many others had already done. Sirius and Kingsley discussed the options of a tracking charm or casting a modified version of the trace to be able to track her location. It was Harry that pointed out that she would probably be swept for magical traces and suggested figuring out a reliable muggle form of doing the same.

The wizards quickly dispersed to follow up on the different potential tracking methods leaving Hermione and Luna to their own devices until it was time for Hermione to depart. As soon as the wizards departed, Luna left the kitchen without a word or a glance and Hermione frowned.

I think that she's upset with us.

Go after her. There's nothing good about leaving things unsaid during such tense situations.

Hermione sighed but agreed and followed Luna's exit. She searched room by room until she found the blonde witch sitting cross legged in the center of the bed they had left behind for breakfast just a few hours earlier. The older witch felt her shoulders drop as she climbed up and settled behind her friend, her fingers working small braids randomly throughout the long blonde hair. The pair set in silence for several moments.

"This isn't just your fight," Luna said, quietly.

"I know it's not," Hermione agreed. "And I'm not trying to keep you out of it entirely. No, that's not true. If I thought you would ever forgive me for it I would keep you out of it entirely. But I know that I can't. When we have the information that we're lacking currently then I know that we're absolutely going to need you, Luna. We just can't risk you being captured too and being unable to help you."

"Yet you're allowing yourself to be captured intentionally and we're not going to be able to help you," Luna pointed out.

"I'm selfish, Luna, you know that already," Hermione replied. "I don't want you in anymore danger than absolutely necessary. I'm angry that Kingsley is already under their damned vow. I'm angry that so many that are close to us have already been taken and subjected to who knows what. I would much rather rely on Marax to get me out safely than to lose you to these people."

"I am capable of defending myself, you know," the witch countered.

"Oh I definitely know," Hermione smiled. "I'm quite sure that even I don't know the full extent of your capabilities. And I would think that keeping that particular skill quiet until we know what we're up against would be beneficial. You're probably going to be the one to save all our arses."

"Language, Hermione," Luna scolded teasingly, a small smile at her lips.

Hermione chuckled and wrapped her arms around her friend's waist, resting her head against Luna's shoulder. After a several moments of silence, Hermione sighed again, "I'm afraid of what I'm going to find."

"It seems that we will know for certain in the next day or so. No use speculating, I suppose," Luna replied, voice quiet.

The Voice

One hand pressed wearily against his bloodied temple and a groan escaped injured the wizard as he pulled himself into a seated position, leaning against a solid wall behind him. He drew in a couple slow breaths to bring himself back to full awareness and slowly opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.

It appeared to be a cell of some sort. It was cold and clinical, though. Not dingy and dirty like the cells at the ministry or especially those of Azkaban. There was an odd smell also. Sharp and pungent. The walls had an odd, foam-like material covering the walls though he couldn't currently discern what it could be made from or the purpose of the covering.

On the opposite end of the small room was the door, covered with the same foam-like material as the walls save for a long rectangular window with some sort of mesh inside of the glass. The window was just above the panel where the knob ought to be but in its place was a smooth, shiny metal surface.

The wizard looked down at himself, taking stock of his current situation. His wand was nowhere to be found. Likely lost on his way to...wherever this was or broken along the way. His heart squeezed slightly at the thought of his wand potentially broken. He wore no shoes, his clothes had been replaced at some point with some flimsy, white pajamas? He was clean though, as far as he could tell, save for the drying blood on the side of his head. Try as he might, he couldn't remember the origins of that wound either. In fact, the last thing that he could remember prior to waking up here was-

A loud clunking sound echoed into his little cell, coming from the door. The sound was metallic, mechanical even. Maybe the locking mechanism? He found out that his guess was correct when the door swung open. Two people in matching pajama clothes entered, dragging a third between them who was apparently barely conscious. He watched wearily from his place on the floor against the far wall.

By observation alone, he surmised that the two were male, few women were quite as tall and broadly built as the two that were dragging a body into his room? Cell? Prison? Whatever. But their mouths were covered by an odd piece of fabric that seemed to loop behind each of their ears and certainly made any physical features difficult to distinguish. Their pajama uniforms had nothing embroidered upon them. No seal, no names, nothing that would give the wizard any indication of who they were. Or better yet, where he was.

The pair left quickly after dropping their cargo in a heap on the floor at the opposite corner. There was another loud, screeching sound and a heavy thunk and then silence. He kept his position for a few more moments to ascertain if it was actually safe to move. Holding his breath he slipped over to the room's newest occupant.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, rolling the other man onto his back. He felt the air leave him in an instant as he caught the stranger's face.

The stranger looked equally as effected. "That...this...No, this is not possible!"

"Breathe, for me now," he encouraged. They'd get nowhere if the git passed out.

"Freddie?" the newcomer asked, weakly. As though he feared that he was hallucinating.

"Yeah Georgie," Fred nodded. "It's me."

George Weasley carefully sat up and looked around their accommodations and looked again at his twin, unable to believe that he was really, truly there with him. "What happened? Where have you been? Where-Where are we?"

"All of your questions have the same answer, brother mine," Fred sighed, running a hand over his head, noting idly that his hair had been shorn nearly to the scalp. "I haven't the foggiest idea."